The Lyon Sleeps Tonight: The Lyon's Den by Elizabeth Ellen Carter & The Lyon's Den

Author:Elizabeth Ellen Carter & The Lyon's Den [Carter, Elizabeth Ellen & Den, The Lyon's]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, romance, Historical
Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.
Published: 2020-07-11T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

The horse sniffed the clear air of the woodlands ahead. A firm nod of his head indicated to his rider that he wanted to go faster.

Peter obliged, touching his heels to the horse’s flank in silent permission to canter. He, too, took a deep breath, filling his lungs with countryside air.

Seeing his chance, the horse headed toward a large meadow, a canter transforming into a gallop. Peter allowed his body to fall into the rhythmic gait.

He felt better today than he’d felt in more than a year now.

Many years now, if he was honest with himself.

He’d forgotten how much he appreciated Major Jones’ counsel both as a military man and as a father figure. There was no one else he could talk to about his inner turmoil. To have him understand and not condemn was a balm for the soul.

For the first time in years, he could speak about his father without the heavy weight of expectation on his shoulders. The conversation flowed freely thanks to the major’s very fine bottle of Indian Feni, a spirit made from fermented cashew apples. It wasn’t his habit to drink alcohol so early in the morning, but he could not refuse a toast to his late father.

Perhaps some of the candor fueled by liquor was what now brought him up here, where Opal said she would be. He surveyed the vista of shrubby landscape and woodlands where, through the thin trunks, he could see sunlight glinting off the ponds.

Acres and acres of untouched landscape, so unlike the rolling green fields of Berkshire.

He didn’t want to think that he came here to find Opal, but that would be a lie. He needed to speak to her about last night. Today, after speaking with her father, he finally had the vocabulary with which to do it.

He rode northwards toward Highgate before doubling back toward Kentish Town without catching sight of her or her party. Even then, Peter couldn’t bring himself to feel disappointment. He would see her again soon enough. He imagined that she still rode. If not, they could rent something and take a turn around Hyde Park or promenade through the Vauxhall Gardens.

Did she ever see the British Museum? They spoke of it on the voyage back to England. Perhaps she would like to see it with him.

The sun was on his back, urging him on and upwards to the highest point, Parliament Hill. He’d been told one could see the whole of London from that vantage point.

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